In a haze, he reached out and found his sword. He was wracked by a wave of pain, but vitality sang in his veins.
He felt stronger. His mind was clearer. He opened his eyes. He lay in a summoning circle, with swords at each corner. Lightning coursed through a black sky. He sat up and saw the witch.
She cackled. “Welcome back.”
“I died…” I stammered.
“The soul of the warrior is in his sword,” she said. “You can live again, so long as you fight.” It was a false life, but he wouldn’t waste his chance for revenge.

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